


Spring Training (Is Hard To Do)

by tiedtogetherwithadagger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Baseball Player Derek, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Bodyguard Stiles Stilinski, Coming Out, Dead Scott, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Military Stiles, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Character, Scott's dead sorry!!, Sterek Exchange 2017, pansexual Derek, really small tho i didn't want that to be the focus of this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiedtogetherwithadagger/pseuds/tiedtogetherwithadagger
Summary: When Glow magazine outs MLB starting pitcher Derek Hale, his older sister gets him a bodyguard until the news blows over.Stiles Stilinski is on a leave of absence from the military after his childhood friend dies in combat. When his best friend asks for a favor, he’s reluctant to accept the responsibility of another person’s life in his hands anytime soon.But when these two people meet, they’re surprised when unexpected sparks begin to fly. And maybe… they can learn how to cope together.





	1. Manila Folder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cantabo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantabo/gifts).



> Ahhhhh this took me FOREVER to finish. I loved the premise you gave me and I had so many ideas with this, it was just really hard narrowing them down for me to finish on time (thank you for the extensions @sterekexchange!!). This is for the lovely Cantabo. I really loved your prompts (and got hella inspired by the FWB college one while listening to Halsey. I literally almost started from scratch it got me so inspired) and decided to go with the American Assassin-inspired bodyguard!Stiles prompt. I really hope you like this but please don't feel bad if you don't.
> 
> HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE thanks to the Sterek Chat Group #2! And the person who put us all together, [Rachel](http://halekingsourwolf.tumblr.com/), thank you so so much for all that you did for all of us, we appreciate you so much <3\. I'd also like to thank [Angie](http://prettyinsoulpunk.tumblr.com/) and [Anabella](http://derpyjeffcarter.tumblr.com/) for holding my hand and cheerleading me, and [Saori](http://assisreal.tumblr.com/) for being the best moderator ever and giving me endless amounts of encouragement. You guys are my rocks <3
> 
> For reference, this is [Sandy](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8b/Great_Dane_black_laying.jpg)!

Derek tugs at the collar of his T-shirt where it’s been rubbing against his neck and takes in another lungful of air. The room around him is stifling and the air feels dense, but the cool face of the team’s General Manager, Chris Argent, stares back at him unruffled. Coach Finstock clears his throat where he stands in the doorway of Chris’ office ー blocking the only exit, Derek’s brain helpfully points out ー and shifts uncomfortably. Maybe Derek isn’t the only one affected, then.

“As enthralling as a _sitting_ stand-still is,” Coach Finstock motions towards where Chris and Derek are both sitting and holding what has to be the most ridiculous staring contest the world has seen over Chris’ desk, “Can we get to the point before practice starts?”

“Derek,” Chris says carefully. “As you’re aware, your contract is up for renewal this year. Since spring training is already underway, we would like to make this negotiation as quick as possible.”

“Wait, where’s my manager?” Derek interrupts. “Shouldn’t she be here for this?”

Chris gives him a look and says flatly, “As I was saying, we would _like_ to make this go as quickly as possible. _Your manager_ , however,” Derek lifts an eyebrow at his tone, “seems to believe that the contract we’ve offered ‘isn’t up to par’.”

A snort comes from behind Derek and he turns to see Finstock covering his mouth with a fist.

“So… why exactly am I here, then?” Derek licks his lips nervously and looks uncertainly between Chris and Finstock.

Finally, Chris heaves a sigh and looks to the heavens for a moment. When he returns his gaze to face Derek, his professional veneer is gone and in its place is an exhausted father.

“Would you please tell Allison to cool it? I get that you’re her first client and she wants to prove herself in the industry, but Christ.” Chris drops his head into his hands briefly, stifling a groan, and drags a hand down his face. “My receptionist has been convinced that I’m somehow a supervillain.”

Derek’s eyebrows cock up.

“Look. All I’m asking is that you have a talk with her. Look over the contract and make _modest_ revisions. It’s not a bad contract.”

“No offense, but ‘not bad’ doesn’t usually mean good in my experience,” says Derek, shooting Chris an unimpressed look.

Sensing his urge to flee, Chris pins him with pleading eyes ー as much as a 54-year-old hardass’ eyes can _plead_.

“Fine,” Derek grits out. “I’ll talk to her. But she’s not exactly easy to persuade once she sets her mind on something.”

Chris snorts. “Trust me, I know.”

“Alright, Hale, come on. Your teammates are waiting for us.” Finstock pats Derek on the back as he gets up from the office’s squeaky leather chair.

Before they leave, Chris calls out, “Hale! Remember, we need to have a contract completed and signed by the end of the month.”

Derek purses his lips, but nods. “Got it.”

***

“What did Coach want, anyway?” Boyd asks him after practice. They’re sitting wide-legged on a bench in the locker room cooling down after practice. Derek has a cold towel wrapped around his neck and takes big gulps from his bottle of Gatorade.

“Wasn’t Finstock,” Derek lets out between sips. “He took me to see Chris.”

“Wait,” Boyd’s hand surges up to land flat against Derek’s chest. “Our GM, Chris? Chris Argent, Chris?”

Derek glares down at the hand on his chest and looks back up at Boyd pointedly. Immediately, Boyd raises both hands in the air in surrender. “Right, got it. Chris Argent. So what did he want?”

“My contract’s up for negotiation and apparently we’re having trouble settling.” Shaking his wrist to catch a glance at his watch, Derek says, “I was supposed to have a meeting with Allison in an hour, probably about this, but she had to cancel because she has a ‘girlfriend emergency’. Whatever that is.”

Boyd quirks an eyebrow and covers up his laugh with a cough. It’s not until the coughs turn into Boyd actually choking, that Derek gets it. “That’s not a gay joke, Boyd.” His tone may be firm, but the look on Derek’s face is nothing but fond as he pats Boyd’s back to ease him through the coughs.

Once Boyd is able to breathe again, he gives Derek a lopsided smile and loops an arm around his neck. “No, I know. Not gay.”

Derek feels a quick smile curve his features. When he first came out as pansexual to Boyd, his teammate was quick to pick up on how sensitive Derek gets with the ‘gay or straight’ idea.

Getting up from the bench with a grunt, Boyd pats Derek on the shoulder.

“Thanks, man,” says Derek.

“Any time. _Bro_.” Boyd’s cackles echo against the tiled walls of the locker room.

“Boyd, stop! You know I have a thing about ghosts!” A nervous shout comes from the showers.

“Jackson, you have a thing about everything!” Another voice calls.

Yep. This is the family he’s chosen. At least he’s getting paid.

***

“So,” Laura steeples her fingers and rests her chin atop them, a smug grin tugging at her lips.

Uh-oh. The look on his sister’s face is enough to make Derek’s hackles rise. He knew when she stopped by practice to ask him to lunch that it had to be a trap. Dammit. He busies himself by gulping down the rest of the water in his glass and flagging down the waiter for more.

“Isaac tells me you’re having trouble with your contract.”

Ah. There it is.

“Since when do you hang out with Isaac? I thought he was terrified of you.” Derek crosses his arms against his chest and leans back in the wicker chair. They decided on eating outside today and the sun is at the perfect angle to make Laura squint. It’s the only advantage Derek has over her and he’s grateful for it.

“Which makes it easier to pull information out of him,” Laura points her finger at him. “I may be your personal trainer, D, but don’t forget that I work with several other players on your team, too. You can’t hide things from me.”

Derek sighs. Might as well get this over with. “Fine. Yes. There have been some disputes with my contract. But I’m letting Allison take the reigns on this one. I trust her and if she thinks that the contract as it stands isn’t in my best interests, then I believe her.” He pauses, taking a bite of his chicken, and chews through his next words in the hopes that Laura won’t understand him. Or at least get annoyed. “Chris wants me to ‘talk some sense into her’, though.”

 _“What?”_ Okay, so clearly Laura’s been working on her lip-reading skills. He cringes. “He can’t be serious. Derek, what, exactly, are they trying to slip into your contract?”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “A trading clause.”

“What does that mean?” Laura rests her elbows on the edge of the table and leans over.

“It means that they can trade me to another team any time they want.” Derek puts his hand up before Laura can tear into him. “Which is normal for MLB contracts. I’ve just… never had one before. They’re not giving me a raise either, but that’s not really a problem.”

“But it scares you,” Laura gathers. She reaches her hand across the table to hold onto Derek’s, squeezing tight. “Hey, little bro, it’ll be okay. Allison knows what she’s doing. When do you see her next?”

Derek hits his head against the table with a groan. “I was supposed to meet with her now but she had to cancel on me this morning.”

“Wait, why did Allison cancel your meeting? That doesn’t sound like her.” A small crease appears between Laura’s brows and she frowns.

“I don’t know. She got a call from Lydia and said that it couldn’t wait.” Sighing, Derek looks down at his half-eaten lunch. “I hope they’re doing okay, their anniversary is coming up in a couple months.”

“Yeah, me too.” Laura purses her lips, no doubt going through every encounter she’s had this last week to try to pinpoint a cause. She hums and quickly changes the subject. “So, any plans with what’s-his-face?”

Derek snorts. “Thanks, Lo. His name’s Ethan and I know you know that.”

Laura makes a face at him that spurs a laugh out of him. His sister’s never been fond of his hookups, but Derek doesn’t want to publicly come out any time soon. He likes the privacy, the anonymity of it.

“Yeah, actually, we do. He’s coming over tonight.” Derek grins salaciously just to see Laura grimace.

“Ew,” a shudder wracks her body and Derek tosses his head back with a laugh.

His cell phone rings after Laura asks for the check, and he looks at the screen to see Allison’s face lighting up.

“Hmm,” he says to get Laura’s attention from flirting with with their waiter. Travis is his name, apparently. Derek shakes his phone at her, “Speak of the devil.”

Laura snorts, “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

He grins at her as he accepts the call, “Hey, Ally. What’s up?”

“Derek. We need to meet at your house. _Now._ ”

Laura’s giggles abruptly cut off when she sees the grin slip from her brother’s face.

***

The drive to Derek’s house is tense and the silence between them is deafening. Allison has never been one for dramatics, so whatever this is, it’s not good.

“Hey, it’s probably nothing, Derek. Don’t panic about something that hasn’t even happened yet, okay?” His sister’s soothing voice calms him enough to unclench his fists from his seat into a slightly less worrisome hold.

“Yeah. You’re right.” Derek nods, willing himself to focus his attention on the lights of the car’s clock on the dashboard. Thank God Laura’s driving.

“Your nails are gonna break leather with the way you’re holding onto that seat. This car wasn’t cheap, Der.”

“Thank you, Laura,” Derek says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. At least the tension has broken.

Derek’s dog, Sandy, greets them at the door with an enthusiastically shaking tail and yips happily when Derek lets her place her paws on his shoulders to hug him. Sandy being a giant great dane, it’s something she’s done with him even as a puppy. Derek had no idea how quickly they grew, but Sandy’s giant size only made him love her more. Derek lets her lick his face with a laugh and gently pushes her down. Sandy almost immediately flops onto her back and wiggles around on the floor in invitation. Laura stoops down to rub her belly and laughs when her tongue hangs out of her mouth.

They’re interrupted by a throat clearing and look up to find Allison sitting at the dining table with a manila folder placed in front of her.

“Derek. Laura. Glad you’re here.” There’s only a small amount of relief in her voice.

They sit across from her at the table and wait for Allison to speak.

“Derek, um. You know how I have a contact over at _Glow_ magazine?” Allison waits for Derek to nod before she continues. “Well, today I got a call from them saying that the magazine is going to run a story onー” She clears her throat, “You.”

“Okay,” Laura looks from Allison to Derek, “that’s not the first time _Glow_ has wanted to do a story on an athlete. What’s the problem?”

The manila folder is pushed towards them. “This.”

Derek flips the cover open to reveal pictures of him and Ethan on the sidewalk in front of a bar. There’s nothing exciting about the pictures, really. They walk close together but that can easily be explained away. It’s not until Derek gets to the third picture that he freezes.

Ethan has him pushed up against the brick wall outside the bar with their lips pressed tightly together. The light of an overhead lamp provides the perfect angle to identify Derek’s face and their distinctly masculine forms.

“Shit,” Laura breathes.

Yeah. No shit.


	2. Duffel Bag

Derek’s glad Laura’s already at the house with him. It makes it easier to handle the news, knowing that he’s not completely alone. Allison is one of his best friends, but nothing beats the familiar comfort of his big sister.

Laura’s camped out a spot on the couch to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to goad Derek into watching bad 80’s movies and snuggling. He’s a big enough man to say that he partakes in both.

It seems like the most natural thing to have his sister so close by when he’s in a time of need. Derek quickly finds himself falling into her spiraling stories that have no clear end. He takes the steaming mug of hot cocoa from her when she makes enough for two. And when she starts braiding his hair, Derek only laughs and asks if she plans on using a scrunchy or a hair tie.

So when Laura takes out her overnight bag that’s stored in the hall closet and plops it onto Derek’s bed, Derek just pulls out an extra blanket for her chronically cold feet.

It’s become a tradition of sorts, for them to share a bed when the other is upset. It started when they were kids and Derek never thought that it would carry over into adulthood, but both of their penchants for bad breakups sailed that ship as soon as they hit college.

“Thanks,” Laura says, taking the offered blanket and immediately using it to swat at her brother.

“Don’t you start, Laura,” Derek points his finger at her in warning, but the cheshire cat smile on her face just grows wider.

“Don’t what, Der? Don’t…” she looks around the room, assessing her options, and catapulting her way onto the mattress. “Don’t jump on the bed?” Grabbing the pillows by her feet, Laura starts flinging each one at Derek’s face. “Don’t start a pillow fight?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the older one?” Derek crosses his arms across his broad chest.

“I will be the hippest grandma and still defeat you!” Demonstrating her point, Laura bounces higher into the air and reaches for the ceiling ー harder to do with the cathedral ceilings in Derek’s master bedroom. “Come on, Derek. What, are you scared?”

“No,” Derek pouts.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Laura drags out the word like she used to when she was thirteen. “You’re totally scared I’m gonna beat you!”

“There’s nothing to beat, Lo,” Derek says in a bored voice. “There’s no way to score points by jumping on a bed.”

“Wanna bet?”

The evil cackle she lets out really should have warned Derek of her leaping off the bed and pouncing on him.

“Laura, no!”

***

The doorbell interrupts round four and Derek answers it with his hair sticking up at all angled and laugh lines curved deeply around his lips.

A teenager holding a pizza bag stands on his doorstep with a tired face. Must be close to college applications, then. Derek mentally commiserates.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” he says.

“It’s already paid for, sir.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” The girl takes two pizzas from the bag and hands them over to him. Derek notices the dark circles under her eyes and how she fumbles to close the pizza bag and decides to give her a tip big enough to pay for four more pizzas. The look on her face is worth anything.

“Ohhhhhh, I smell yeast!” Laura comes barreling in to swipe the pizzas from him and take them to the kitchen. “The receipt says Jackson paid for them. Look, _J. Whittmore_.”

“That must mean the article was released then,” Derek frowns, taking a deep, centering breath.

“Is Ethan still coming over?” Laura asks.

Derek snorts, “So you _do_ know his name!”

“Of course, you idiot,” Laura sticks her tongue out at him before opening the first box of pizza and exclaiming. “Mac and cheese and M&Ms! Oh my God, I think I’m in love with Jackson.”

A smile stretches across Derek’s face as he looks at the mac and cheese pizza before him. Spelled out in rainbow M&Ms are the words, _STRONG AS FUCK_. A snort escapes from him. Jackson and him used to have a rivalry when he first joined the team. It wasn’t until they bonded over _The Princess Diaries_ that they agreed to have a truce.

“I think so? I haven’t heard anything from him so I’m assuming he still is. Don’t worry, sis. We won’t have crazy monkey sex with you here.”

“Just normal monkey sex, then?” Laura says, straightfaced.

“Yep.”

Ethan ends up coming over a couple hours later. They don’t normally just hang out together and although Derek joked about having sex, he isn’t sure he wants to anymore. Derek turns on his phone once Ethan arrives and stays glued to it the whole night.

There’s a crappy _Lifetime_ movie on the TV that Derek isn’t paying any attention to. He’s too wrapped up in his Twitter feed. For every tweet praising him for his bravery ー Derek doesn’t how getting outed against his will is _brave_ ー there’s another saying he should be banned from the locker rooms.

“There’s a party in East Hollywood tonight,” Ethan mentions, his foot twitching restlessly.

“Mm,” Derek doesn’t look up from his screen.

“Ugh, that’s enough, Derek!” Laura snatches his phone away before looking at him with wide, angry eyes. “Derek,” she says slowly. “Why haven’t you told me you’ve been receiving threats?”

“They’re not real, Lo. It’s just some stupid internet trolls.” Derek shifts uncomfortably on the couch, suddenly aware of how little space he has between him and Ethan and Laura on either side of him. He snaps up from the couch and says, “It’s not a big deal, Laura.”

“Yes it is, Derek! Look at this! This is a picture of your house. _Your house._ ”

“Yes, and I have security.” Derek says slowly, like he’s talking to a small child. “It’s fine.”

Ethan leans over Derek to look at the tweet on his phone. “Uh, Derek, this is us.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales roughly. “Yes, Ethan. I am aware there are pictures of us online.” Looking to heavens, he swears he’s surrounded by idiots.

“No,” Ethan puts his hand on Derek’s arm. “We’re in the picture of the house. You can see us through the window here.”

At the stricken look on her brother’s face, Laura holds up her hands. “Okay, that’s enough. Derek we have to do something.”

“Like what?” His eyes can’t stay fixed on anything, flitting anxiously from the fireplace in front of him, to the cactus Laura got him for Christmas two years ago. They eventually rest on the framed picture of his family smiling at the camera from where they sit on the porch of his childhood home.

“I don’t know! But this scares me, little bro.” The sincerity in her eyes tugs at his heart and makes him look away. “Maybe a… bodyguard?”

“A bodyguard,” Derek repeats.

“A bodyguard?” Ethan squeaks.

“Yes.” Laura looks at them both like they’re idiots. It must run in the family, then.

“Derek, can I talk to you in private?” Ethan puts his hand on Derek’s arm, drawing his attention away from Laura.

Laura looks between them for a moment before taking her cue to leave with a sigh. “Fine, fine, I’m going.” She gets up, glaring at Ethan, and calls over her shoulder, “But I’m only going to the kitchen, so behave!”

The silence that falls upon them is heavy and awkward. Ethan bites his lip, fidgeting with his fingers and avoiding Derek’s gaze.

“Lookー” Ethan starts.

“You don’t want to do this anymore,” Derek finishes.

With a wince, Ethan says, “Yeah?” He sighs. “I’m sorry, Derek. But a bodyguard? That’s not what I signed up for. This was supposed to be just some fun, you know?”

“Yeah, I do.” Derek pauses. “I think it’s best, if I’m honest. I think I have to deal with this on my own. And I don’t want to drag you into this either.”

“You’re a good guy, Derek.” Ethan pats his hand a few times before getting up.

“You are, too, Ethan.”

“Yeah,” Ethan bites his lip, clears his throat. “Right, well. I should probably go then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Derek chuckles. When he closes the door behind him, Derek thumps his head against it and groans.

It’s not like Derek expected anything more from his relationship with Ethan. They weren’t anything serious and they both knew they never would be. But, shit. It feels like everything he’s built for himself is starting to crumble right before of his eyes. He’s not ready to come out, yet. The fact that articles coming out have already proclaimed that he’s gay is just proof of it. You can either be gay or straight, anything else isn’t even on their radar.

Derek didn’t want to deal with all of the invasive questions he knew would come if he said anything that contradicted people’s minds. The first person he came out to was his uncle, Peter. Derek was fifteen and confused out of his mind when he tried to find a label and _nothing seemed to fit_. Turns out, Peter was the best person to go to for that advice because his uncle spent the next month with him searching for articles and forums online and even took him to a local college’s sexual education department.

“So… there’s some mac and cheese pizza left in the fridge if you want it? I saved the chocolate sauce for you,” comes Laura’s voice softly behind him. She’s leaning against the archway giving him a sympathetic look. He’d like to say he didn’t need the sympathy, but who was he kidding? With a sigh, Derek opened his arms for his sister to jump in. Laura ducks her chin over his shoulder and squeezes him tight. “I just got off the phone with Allison. She says she can have someone here tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Derek says into her hair. He lets out a long-winded sigh and lets the tension leave his body as he burrows deeper into the one place he’s always felt safe.

“It’ll be okay, baby bro.” And even though Derek hears the trepidation laced in her voice, he knows he can believe her.

***

“I’m not ready for this, Lyds,” Stiles says as he carries down another box from his closet to pile on his bed.

Lydia is busy rifling through three other boxes on the bed and making a pile of things they might need by her feet. “I know you feel that way, Stiles, but I think you are. It’s been six months since the accident. When you were cleared for duty and you chose to take a leave of absence, I supported you. But I’m worried you’re going to stay inside your apartment and wait until you can see Scott again.”

Stiles takes a sharp breath. “I thought we decided not to use his name,” he warns.

“Yeah, well,” Lydia crosses her arms and sucks her bottom lip into her mouth ー a habit of hers when she’s angry but doesn’t want to lash out. She blows out a rush of air, and makes her next words gentle. “That was right after he died, Stiles. I think it’s time you start to heal.”

“I _am_ healed! I’m completely healed, he’s the one who…” swallowing, Stiles pauses. After a long, gaping silence, he says, “You’re right. I _know_ you’re right. Sometimes it’s just hard to do what you know you have to. To know _how_.”

Lydia steps close behind him, rubbing his back. “I know. He was my friend, too. I’m going through this, too. But I need you to be here with me. Not just your body,” she lets go and lifts his head so their eyes meet, “I need _you_ to be here. Your head’s been absent a lot lately. Sometimes I feel like you’ve left me, too. Stiles, I can’t do this alone.”

“Fuck, Lydia, I’m sorry.” Stiles rushes to pull her close and squeezes her tight. “I get too stuck in my head and I’m sorry I haven’t been as good a friend to you as you’ve been for me. That’s my fault.”

Lydia quickly pulls back from their embrace and swats his arm. “Stop that!”

“Ow!” Stiles glares at her and rubs his arm with a pout.

“Stiles,” she says, exasperated. “Stop. Blaming. Yourself. Scott’s death wasn’t your fault. Me mourning? Also not your fault. This is just how it is right now. It sucks and it hurts and it’s going to for a long time, but we still have each other and we still have our lives to live and if Scott were here, he’d kick your ass for not taking care of yourself.”

Sighing, Stiles hangs his head. “And you think taking this job would do that? Take care of me?”

Lydia purses her lips for a moment to think through her next response. “I think this will be a good opportunity to branch out and push yourself past what you think you can handle. I _know_ you, Stiles. You can handle so much more than what you think. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

“Is… is that from Winnie the Pooh?”

“Maybe.” Lydia tries to disguise her smile but once Stiles catches sight of it, it’s a lost cause and he smiles even wider.

He clutches her hand and squeezes. “Okay.”

Stiles opens the box nearest him on his bed and goes rigid, his breath shuddering past his lips.

“Is thatー” Lydia asks.

“Yeah. HeーScott drew it.” In the box is Stiles’ army duffel, and right on top is the stupid skull and crossbones Scott drew on it in permanent marker the first chance he got. He traces the marked fabric gingerly, thinking of Scott’s bright and smiling face. Him, Stiles, and Lydia all grew up together, and signed up for the force together. They were deployed to the same unit ー if anyone asks, Stiles absolutely did _not_ blackmail anybody to get them assigned together. Scott and Stiles were together when the blast that killed Scott striked. When Stiles woke up, Lydia was the first person he saw and he knew instantly that he would never see Scott’s face again.

“It’s useful,” Stiles says. “The bag. We could use it for the mission.”

Lydia quirks an eyebrow.

“Wel,l I don’t know what to call it. Assignment?”

She chuckles, “How about ‘job’?”

“Yeah, I guess that works,” Stiles says with a tilt of his head and a nod.

***

From the call Stiles received from Lydia’s girlfriend, Allison, the Hales want someone there as soon as possible. After packing his surveillance and security equipment in his army duffel, he decides to head over that same night.

Walking up to the front door, Stiles’ military brain already observes how poor the security currently is, noting the singular camera set atop the roof. When he knocks, a young woman with thick dark hair answers the door.

“Oh, hi. Are you…?”

Stiles raises an eyebrow and tilts his head forward. “Security? Um, yeah, that’s me.”

“Huh. Not what I expected.”

“What, not rugged enough for you?”

“Oh no, you’re definitely rugged enough for me.”

“Uh…” The tips of Stiles ears burn red, making her laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, you just set that up so well. Stilinski?” At Stiles’ nod, she opens the door wider to let him in. “I’m Laura, Derek’s sister. He’s picking up dinner right now but I can call to have him grab something for you too?"

“I will never turn down free food,” Stiles says solemnly.

Laura snorts and shoots a text off to her brother. “So what has Allison told you so far?”

“Some dick at _Glow_ decided to out Derek and then some other dicks on Twitter decided to harass him about it. Basic dicks being dicks.”

Laura does something uninterpretable with her face, then says, “Blunt. But accurate.”

Stiles gives a short smile. “How’s he doing by the way? I, uh, know how it feels to be outed when you’re not ready.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, back in high school I hooked up with someone who wasn’t ready to come out so he decided the best way to misdirect the rumors was to tell everyone in school that I liked dudes.”

“Yikes, that sucks. I’m sorry,” says Laura.

“Thanks. It did suck for a bit, but my friends had my back and made my senior year worth it.” A smile appears on Stiles’ face as he thinks of Lydia dying her strawberry blonde hair a pastel rainbow in support of him ー something that started a mini-riot when she came to school the next day ー and Scott getting them all fake ID’s to get into The Jungle.

He clears his throat to dislodge the sudden lump.

“I’m worried about him,” Laura says. “I mean, he says he’s fine but I know he’s rattled. He would have come out, I know that. But it should be his choice; it should happen the way _he_ plans it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Stiles shares a commiserating look with her and places shuffles his feet. “I can start securing the perimeter and placing the security cameras while Derek’s still out. That sound okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Laura blows out a puff of air that lifts the hair out of her face. “Let me show you around the place.”

***

When Derek gets home, Stiles sees him with a leash belonging to a giant great dane in one hand, a bag of food balanced in the crook of his elbow, and the other hand struggling to keep the door open long enough for the dog and him to get inside.

“Oh! Here, let me help.” Stiles rushes forward to grab the food ー the real precious asset here, let’s be real ー from him and hold the door open.

“Thanks,” Derek flashes a sparkling smile at him that has Stiles dazed and blinking rapidly to clear his head enough to close the door behind him.

Derek sets the bag of food down on the coffee table and starts unloading the boxes inside. “So, uh, who are you?”

Stiles mentally face palms. Of course the guy he’s supposed to be protecting doesn’t bat an eye at strangers opening his own door for him. He doesn’t voice this, however, because he has some sense of thought (unlike some people, apparently). “I’m Stiles. Your bodyguard.”

A rigid line appears in Derek’s spine as he stands up straight. “Oh,” he says flatly, dragging his tongue across the front of his teeth under his lips and making a popping sound.

Stiles narrows his eyes at him and looks to the side awkwardly, “Uh.”

“Oh good! You’re here!” Laura comes rushing into the room. “Now we can all eat and _enjoy getting to know each other_ ,” she looks to Derek pointedly as she says this and plasters on a mega watt smile when she turns back to face Stiles. It’s quite terrifying.

Derek glares at her, then shifts the glare to Stiles. “Terrific.”

Thankfully ー a word used liberally in Stiles’ head that night ー Laura talks enough for all of them during dinner. Usually Stiles is the one that has trouble reining in his outpouring of words but even he has difficulty getting a word in edgewise.

When it comes time for Laura to leave, she pulls Stiles aside. “So...sorry about the cold shoulder. I probably should have warned you about Derek.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about?”

“Um. Well. Derek didn’t exactly _want_ a bodyguard?”

“That would have been very nice to know beforehand,” Stiles says in a strangled voice.

“I’m sorry, okay! It’s justー” She takes a deep breath and lets it puff out. “The pictures of Derek and Ethan weren’t the only pictured leaked, okay.”

“What do you mean?”

Laura worries her lip, voice shaking slightly. “I don’t know how or where they got it but someone was able to take a picture of Derek here, through the window.”

“Shit,” breathes Stiles.

“Look, I know I worry too much, but Derek’s my baby brother. If anyone is threatening himー?”

“I get it,” Stiles says seriously. If there were anyone who would understand, it would be Stiles.

“Could you make sure he’s doing okay? Or call me if he seems upset?”

“You know him better than I do, Laura. But sure, I’ll call you if I think something’s up,” says Stiles.

“Thank you, Stiles. Really. I know this was short notice and you didn’t have to accept the job but I’m really glad you did.” She stuffs her feet in her boots and grabs her car keys hanging by the door. “I’ll stop by some time tomorrow, but if you need anything, let me know.”

“You do realize I’m a fully functioning grown man, right?” Derek comes up behind her and gives her a bear hug.

“Der,” Laura wheezes. “I surrender! Please. Can’t.” Pointing to her chest, she gasps. “Breathe.”

Derek pulls away and ruffles her hair. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“You know it,” she teases. “See ya, bro. Sleep well, guys. Remember, I’m ー”

“Only a call away,” they chorus.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” Stiles chuckles. “We’ll be fine, Laura. Okay?”

“Okay.” Laura looks at her brother for a moment before saying with more finality. “Okay. Bye, guys. Bye Sandy!”

The great dane gives a pitiful howl but Derek just scratches behind her ears and she immediately surrenders her attention to his hand with a happy huff.

An awkward silence greets them in the absence of Laura. Stiles sucks his lower lip into his mouth and lets it out with a pop. He clears his throat and bobs his head to an unknown rhythm while Derek avoids looking at him in favor of petting the dog. To be fair, she’s pretty damn cute.

“So, her name is Sandy?” At the mention of her name, Sandy perks her ears up and tilts her head questioningly at Stiles.

“Mhm.”

Stiles gives the black dog a curious look before turning his gaze back to Derek. “Like, ironically?”

Sighing, Derek finally looks up at him. “Our favorite movie growing up was _Annie_.”

Stiles’ eyes grow impossibly wide as he tries to contain the absolute _glee_ he feels. “Sandy was the best character in that movie.”

“Right?” Derek’s eyes shine with excitement and the smile from earlier is back in full force. Their eyes stay locked for a long moment before Derek breaks it. “Um. You can take the couch.”

“What?” Stiles shakes his head to clear it, momentarily feeling blindsided.

“To sleep. Couch.” Derek says each word slowly and Stiles responds with a flat look.

“Dude, seriously? I know you have two spare bedrooms.” Stiles follows behind Derek when he walks to the linen closet and grabs a couple blankets and a pillow.

When he turns to face Stiles, Derek shrugs. “They’re broken.”

Stiles falters in his steps and an involuntary snort escapes him. “Broken. That’s the best you could come up with?”

Derek just grins smugly at him and plops the bedding onto the couch. “Yup.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Fine. But don’t come running to me tomorrow morning when you get sick of hearing me complain about my back.”

“Oh my god, it’s an orthopedic couch. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

“Aw,” Stiles grins. “I thought that was a nickname just for your sister. Glad to see you care about me, too.”

“Goodnight,” Derek calls over his shoulder.

Stiles snorts, settling himself down on the couch and stretching his neck. When he rolls over onto his side, Sandy is sitting there only inches from his face. The loud yelp that Stiles makes elicits a low growl from her and a muffled chuckle from behind Derek’s bedroom door.

Derek’s head pops out from his door and he sports a cocky grin. “You’re not afraid of dogs, are you, Stiles?”

“ _I went to war_ ,” Stiles enunciates.

Shrugging, Derek says, “She’s wary of new people so she’ll probably keep watch for you tonight.”

Before Stiles can reply, Derek’s head disappears behind his door again. He sighs. “Keep watch _for_ me or _of_ me?” He asks himself.

Sandy nips at him in answer.

“Great.”

***

The warmth of the sun streaming in through the window across the room makes Derek squint awake the next morning. He sits up in bed with a hiss, rubbing his feet against his comforter to gain enough friction to hopefully warm them up. Sandy usually sleeps beside him and keeps his feet a nice and toasty temperature.

It takes him a moment before he remembers _why_ exactly Sandy isn’t in the room with him and that the reason is just outside his door. With an over dramatic and drawn out groan, Derek grabs a pair of socks from his dresser and sets to make a cup of coffee in the kitchen. As soon as he opens his door, Sandy is there hopping up and down with her tail wagging wildly behind her.

“Hey, girl, I missed you too,” Derek says with a chuckle, petting her head and making sure to catch her favorite spot under her chin too.

He hears heavy breathing and a short grunt and looks up to see Stiles, shirtless, doing one-handed pushups in his living room. Derek stands motionless, eyes locked to the light sheen of sweat clinging to the sinewy muscles running down Stiles’ back. His biceps strain and bulge each time he bends his arm to deepen the pushup. Derek swallows when his attention is dragged to Stiles’ lips as he grunts through the next repetition. Frozen to the spot, it takes a solid minute for Derek to move ー and even then, it’s only after Sandy barks at him. He clears his throat and walks to the kitchen, but not before noticing the smirk on Stiles’ face.

“Feeling tired?” Stiles asks him, not missing a beat when he switches his pushups to his other hand.

“Uhーcoffee,” Derek replies eloquently.

“Already in the pot,” Stiles says over his shoulder. “I made some when I got up earlier.”

“Oh,” Derek falters. “Um, thanks.”

Stiles gets up from the floor and stretches his arms over his head, taking turns jutting each hip out and bending to the opposite side. “I mean, I was already making some for myself. Might as well make enough for both of us,” he says, licking the sweat off his lips. There’s a glimmer in his eyes when he notices Derek’s rapt attention.

“Yeah,” Derek says absently, missing his mug and pouring coffee onto his foot. “Ow!”

“Crap! Here,” Stiles rushes forward. “Lemme help.”

Stiles is quick to grab the kitchen towel off of the oven door and drops to his knees in front of Derek to wipe up the mess.

“Um, yeah, that’s really not helping, Stiles,” Derek mutters. Stiles pauses to look up at Derek where he’s standing stiffly braced against the cabinets. It’s only then that their positions register in Stiles’ mind.

Stiles flushes. “Sorry.”

“Let’s not mention this,” says Derek, staring fixedly at the wall.

“Yep, that sounds about right,” Stiles says, chagrined. He steps back and starts to make his way toward the guest bathroom. “I’ll just, uh, take a shower.”

“Not helping,” Derek calls, eyes pinching tight.


	3. Team Spirit

It’s the team’s first exhibition game since the pictures leaked and the crowds outside the stadium are loud and raucous, filled with press and fans alike. Derek sees a rainbow flag flapping above the crowd somewhere, but he also sees protesters with picket signs. 

It happens so quickly Derek barely has time to process the shouts before he’s being rushed inside and into a separate room. 

“Hey, are you with me?” Someone asks him. Stiles. Derek’s only able to identify him through the rasp in his voice and the warm fingers wrapped around his biceps, holding him in place. His back is pressed against something hard and he’s faintly aware that he’s sitting on the floor with Stiles knelt between his legs. 

“Someone threw something,” Derek mutters between gasped breaths. His head lolls back and he hisses when it hits the hard surface behind him. 

“Yeah, some asshole threw a baseball at us but I caught it, alright? No one’s hurt.” The words sound like they’re spoken underwater, jumbled together until they’re nearly unrecognizable. “Derek? Hey, look at me. You’re going to be okay, alright?” Stiles takes Derek’s hand in his own and rests it against his heart. “You’re having a panic attack. Just focus on matching your breathing to mine, okay?”

Derek’s narrowed vision starts to widen and blur at the edges, but it’s much more preferable than the black dots he had before. He leans his head back against what he now recognizes as a desk behind him and lets out a whoosh of air. Looking at the room around them, he thinks Stiles must have gotten them into one of the offices on the main floor.

“That’s it, you’re doing great. Take another deep breath with me? And, out. Good, again.” They stay that way for a while, Stiles kneeling in front of him with his hand over Derek’s where it’s still resting on Stiles’ chest. 

Derek finally looks at him, eyes wide and a little unfocused. He clears his throat and averts his gaze to the dark grey carpet. Stiles slowly drops his hand and Derek takes it as his cue to retract his own. He still feels the phantom fabric of Stiles’ T-shirt and the thump of his heartbeat beneath his fingertips like an itch he can’t scratch. 

“How are you feeling?” Stiles asks. He slides his duffle off his shoulder to pull out an unopened water bottle ー just how much stuff does he have in there anyways? ー and hands it to Derek.

Derek looks warily at the bottle and then back up at Stiles before taking it from him. “Thanks,” he mutters. “Um, okay I think? I’ve never ー I mean. Iー” Derek stops, takes a breath, sighs, then looks up at Stiles again with his brows furrowed. “How did you know it was a panic attack? I’ve never had one before, I didn’t know…” He trails off, not really sure what to say. 

“I, um, used to have them. Well, I used to used to,” says Stiles.

“What?” A crease forms between Derek’s eyebrows.

“I had them when I was a kid, after my mom died. My dad helped me through them and got me a doctor to teach me how best to handle them. It’d been almost fifteen years since I last had one, until, uh, this year.”

Derek’s eyes stay trained on Stiles’ face, taking in every flicker of his eyelashes and pinch of his mouth, each time he flicks his tongue out to wet his lips hastily, and every time he reaches his hand back to scratch at the back of his neck. This man has captured Derek’s attention and left him absolutely captivated without him even realizing. He feels it in the way his heart clenches for a man he’s only met a week ago. 

“I’m sorry,” says Derek. He holds onto Stiles’ gaze like an anchor, keeping him grounded firmly in the present. His hands itch again, and he has the brief urge to lace his fingers with Stiles’. That would be unprofessional, though. Stiles is here because it’s his job, not because he wants to be. But if that were the case, why would he share something so private with Derek?

“It’s okay. She’d been sick for a long time so it wasn’t really a surprise.” Though his voice conveys an offhand casualness, Derek notices his fists clench quickly before Stiles consciously makes them release. 

“Doesn’t make it any easier, though. And I’m sorry that you’re having panic attacks again. I mean, I’ve only had one but it already feels like I’ve gone to war and back,” Derek jokes. 

Stiles’ face darkens and he immediately shuts down. He takes his hands away from where they were braced on either side of Derek’s knees and stands, grabbing his duffel and slinging it over his shoulder. Derek’s mouth opens in shock and he wants to slap himself. He’s an idiot. Of course a joke about war would cause Stiles to close himself off. 

“Shit, Stiles. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” Derek wants so desperately to go back to the moment before, where it felt like they were opening up their souls for one another. He’s wanted that intimacy for so  _ so _ long. 

“We should go,” Stiles’ voice has gone low and cold, zero inflection in it at all. It seems  _ wrong _ somehow, like every aspect of Stiles should match his personality. Bright and lively and devilishly clever. Hearing him hold himself back from sharing even that small part of himself with Derek, breaks something deep inside of him.

“Yeah, okay.” He hangs his head forward and moves to follow Stiles to the door when Stiles places a hand at his elbow. 

“Don’t forget your water bottle.” 

Derek feels Stiles’ breath on his ear but when he looks up, Stiles has backed away from him again and stands in the doorway waiting for him. 

“Thanks,” Derek says gruffly, picking up the bottle from their corner on the floor and walking towards him. 

“No problem.” Stiles pinches his mouth into a flat line meant to be a reassuring smile and holds the door open for Derek. When Derek walks past him, their chests brush together and he’s relieved to see a softness around Stiles’ eyes beneath the tension that’s still loosely held in his features. It’s something, at least. 

***

They go back to the stadium the next day. Today’s schedule has them all in the gym and Laura’s schedule has Derek focusing on weight training. She’s been his personal trainer for the past three years, a physical therapist for even longer, and helps a few other guys on the team as well.

Stiles says goodbye to them at the gym doors since he has a meeting with the owners, GM, and stadium security to get up to date on their current practices. Derek notices him lingering at the entrance, though. 

“Alright, what’s up?” Derek eventually says.

“Justーyou’re okay being on your own for a while?” Stiles worries his bottom lip between his teeth and furrows his eyebrows. Derek rolls his eyes but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. 

“Yes, mom,” Derek sing-songs. A shocked laugh pops its way out of Stiles and it’s totally worth the incredulous look Laura is throwing them.

“Dude, don’t ever call me that again.” Stiles smiles at him and claps him on the shoulder before turning to leave. 

Derek might or might not be checking out his ass. 

“So…” Boyd drags out the word from where he’s snuck up directly behind Derek, startling him from his reverie. Derek glares murderously at his best friend and rubs at his ear. 

Laura snorts and pulls the strap of her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder. She nods at Derek and says, “I’ll go set up,” before heading over to the weight racks.

“Who was that?” Isaac pops out from behind Boyd ー only after Laura leaves, he notices with a snort. He guesses Isaac is still as terrified of his sister as ever.

“That’s Stiles. My bodyguard.” Derek was reluctant to share with them how Laura strong-armed him into getting a bodyguard but Jackson weaseled the information out of him only twelve minutes after Derek met Stiles. 

“He’s cute,” Jackson says, lifting an eyebrow. Derek’s cheeks heat up as he thinks back to when he walked out of his room to see Stiles, shirtless, doing push ups on the wood floors of his living room.

“Really?” Boyd, Isaac, and Danny say in unison, their voices all in varying degrees of incredulity.

“What?” Jackson shrugs. “I have eyes.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I’ll need a bodyguard for long. He’s only here until this blows over,” says Derek. 

“Um, Derek. I’m not sure if this is something that just  _ blows over _ .” Isaac drops his bag next to Laura’s and grabs the weights she motions towards to start lifting. “I mean,” he grunts, “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, release a statement or something? I don’t think ignoring this is the best option.”

“And say what, huh?” Derek snaps. “It’s already out there, Isaac! There’s nothing I can do about it.” Derek tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice but his efforts are wasted. He feels like something has been taken away from him that he has no hope of getting back. A part of himself that  _ belongs  _ with him and only him, but was stolen and given to anyone with a fleeting interest. 

Swallowing, Derek looks around the gym to see several of his teammates’ faces staring back at him. He quickly averts his eyes, hunching his shoulders subconsciously, and takes a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’ve just been…”

“Stressed?” Isaac offers.

“Depressed?” Boyd asks. 

“A mess?” Jackson smirks.

_ “Thank you, guys.  _ That really helps with the, you know, motivation and emotional resilience. Truly,” deadpans Derek. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s sarcasm. No, scratch that. If there’s one thing Derek’s good at, it’s pitching. And then sarcasm. 

“Have you told them about the interview Allison wants you to do?” Coming around one of the weight benches to stand in front of them, Laura earns a death glare from Derek.

“Interview?” Danny perks up. “Derek, that sounds like a really good idea. I mean, don’t you want to take control of this narrative? It’s  _ your _ life, you should be able to have a say in what people say about you.”

_ “ _ No, _ ” _ Derek grunts out. 

“Butー” Boyd tries.

“ _ No _ . No interview, okay? I justー” Derek falters a bit and pinches his eyes shut when he feels them sting unexpectedly. 

A lot has happened in the short span of a week, and each time he pushed past it, ignored the problem and pretended it wasn’t real, just so he could get on with his life. He was at the team’s gym, lashing out in front of the very people who look up to him. This was the least opportune time for him to fall apart. That kind of thing should be left strictly for when he’s curled up on his bed with Sandy and watching bad 90’s movies and eating way too many pizza rolls.  _ Only  _ then.

“Hey,” Boyd lays a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “You know we’re here for you, right?”

Chancing a glance up, he blinks past the film in his eyes to look at Boyd. He feels vulnerable, laid bare and open for anyone to tear into. His fingers cling to his T-shirt, stretching the bottom beyond repair. 

“That goes for all of us, Derek.” Jackson’s saying. Derek turns to look at him and only sees steely determination in his eyes. “We’re a team. Whatever happens to you, happens to all of us.”

Isaac nods at them and adds, “The whole team has your back, Derek. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Nods and affirmative noises come from the rest of the team around the room. Derek feels the air whoosh out of him and he lets his body collapse onto a bench. He feels completely wrung out and he hasn’t even begun his workout. 

Sighing, Derek leans forward until his head rests in his hands, and breathes soundly through his nose to calm the emotions swirling within him. It’s pain, loss, humiliation, and shame he knows he shouldn’t be feeling but still does at times. It’s desperate hope, gratitude, relief, and a strong pull towards his teammates reminding him just how much he loves them. The bricks that have been piling on top of his shoulders every day have suddenly been lifted. Not all of them, but enough for him to breath again.

“Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I would do without you all behind me. I… thanks.”

“We’ll always be here for you, bro,” Jackson gets up and places a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder before he lifts up Derek’s car keys looped around one of his fingers. “After all, you have the Camaro.”

“How’d youー” Derek reaches out for them only for Jackson to step onto his tippy toes with his arm raised high. Damn those two inches Jackson has on him. 

“Nothing to worry your pretty little mind about, Derek. Now come on, we’re gonna have some team bonding today.”

“Uh-oh,” says Isaac. His face looks haunted. Probably from the last time Jackson initiated ‘team bonding’ and Isaac woke up naked with a new tattoo the next morning. It was his first tattoo.

Cheers and loud laughs echo in the rafters above them as the team starts gathering their things and filing out of the room. 

“Ah, come on, Jackson. I haven’t even started my training today,” says Derek. Laura comes over to them and crosses her arms, regarding them.

“Coming from your personal trainer, I think you need this, Der.”

“What, the training I have yet to do? Or the penis Jackson’ll have tattooed on my face tonight?” 

“Both,” Laura says, straightfaced.

“Mhm,” Boyd nods solemnly.

***

**Derek: The team’s going over to Jackson’s for some bonding. Wanna come?**

Almost immediately after sending the text, Derek wants to facepalm. Stiles is his bodyguard, he’s  _ required _ to come. 

**Stiles: Sure. Meeting’s almost over. I can meet you there?**

**Derek: Sounds good :)**

A bright smile crosses Derek’s face and he doesn’t even bother trying to hide it. He’s escaped the rowdiness of Jackson’s house where the team has been ー very efficiently ー getting drunk, and has taken refuge in the plastic folding chairs outside.

“Well someone’s happy,” says Boyd, plopping down in the chair next to Derek’s. “What’s got you sporting your goofy grin? Last time I saw that, you and Laura were in the middle of a prank war.”

“Stiles is coming by,” says Derek, voice sounding incredibly fond.

“Oh,” Boyd stretches out the word to an impossible length, only stopping when Derek flicks his neck and he has to break away to cough. “Dude,  _ ow _ .” Rubbing at his throat, Boyd says, “I’m glad he makes you happy.”

Derek smiles again and clinks the neck of his beer bottle with Boyd’s before taking another sip. “He does. I mean, it’s his jobー” 

“Derek, trust me, making you happy is  _ not _ in the job description of a bodyguard,” says Boyd. “If he’s doing it, he’s doing it for you.”

“But why? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know this is crazy,” Boyd says in a tone that depicts something is decidedly not crazy. “But have you thought about the possibility of him liking you?”

Derek thinks about how Stiles has been with him, joking and bantering and caring and going past the boundaries of professionalism in order to make sure Derek was okay. 

“I like him,” Derek says. 

“I know,” says Boyd. Derek swats him in the arm. “What I mean is,” Boyd chuckles, “I think he might be good for you. I mean, I’ve only met him a couple times, but anyone that gets you that excited just to see them? I’m all for it, dude. And if something happens and it doesn’t work out, I’ll be there then, too. But you never know how things could be between you two unless you try.”

“When did you get so wise?” Derek teases.

Boyd hums like he’s thinking about it. “About the same time Isaac batted that ball that accidentally hit my head.”

“Yeah,” grins Derek. “Accidentally.”

“Oh, really!” Boyd laughs, throwing an arm around Derek and giving him a noogie.

“Hey! I’m older than you,” Derek shouts. Boyd just gives him an ‘are you really?’ look and lets Derek punch his arm. 

“Oh my god, are you guys  _ twelve _ ?” Stiles snickers from the where he’s closed the sliding doors behind him. “Is this what hypermasculinity feels like?”

“Yes,” both Derek and Boyd deadpan.

“You got here quickly,” says Derek, sitting up to give Stiles enough room to sit at the end of the lounge chair.

“Yeah, I, uh, kind of cut the meeting short.” The tips of Stiles’ ears turn red and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Why?” Derek hugs his legs to his chest and rests his head on his knees.

“Um. You know, no reason,” Stiles says nervously, looking away as his cheeks start to match his ears.

Boyd looks back and forth between them and says loudly, “Well, I’ll be off I think. Jackson said he would birth a small roost of baby dragons.”

“Okay,” Derek says absently, eyes locked onto Stiles.

“You know, baby dragons are actually called whelps. That feels like the kind of noise I want to make right now.”

Stiles and Derek don’t say anything, just sort of sit there grinning at each other.

“Whelp,” says Boyd. He leaves quietly ー not that it would matter to the two lovesick idiots outside ー through the door to haggle Danny.

“So,” says Stiles.

“So,” Derek replies. He chuckles nervously, “I’m glad you could make it. I mean, I know it’s your job to follow me around everywhere.”

“Wow, I’ve never heard my job described quite so creepily before,” Stiles laughs.

“Sorry,” cringes Derek. “Have you been a bodyguard before?”

“Uh, no. Not really.” Stiles clears his throat. “I was in the army before, though I’m sure you already guessed that.”

“The camouflage duffel gave it away, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Derek shares a grin with him. “But it’s also the way you walk. Laura works as a physical therapist with a lot of veterans and we have a few on our team, too. I don’t know how to describe, but you just hold yourself differently?”

“Ready for attack,” Stiles says quietly. Derek hums. “I signed up almost ten years ago and have been with them ever since.” He hesitates, knowing he needs to tell Derek but afraid all the same. “I took a leave of absence six months ago.”

“Why?”

Stiles clears his throat, stumbling for the right words to say. “Iーmy best friendー” A pause. “Scott. Him, me, and Lydia were all in the same squad. Planned it that way actually. We grew up together, signed up together, fought together.” Stiles’ breath catches as the words he spoke to Scott and Lydia all those years comes back to him. 

_ We do this together, okay? That’s how it’s always been with us and how it’ll always be. We grew up together, we’ll sign up together, we’ll fight together, and  _ die  _ together. No one gets left behind. _

“I left him behind,” Stiles whispers to himself, shaking and clutching his arms to his chest to try to hold himself together. 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice seems so far away and he knows that his head bringing him to a place that doesn’t even exist anymore and clinging to Scott’s injured body and knowing that he was too late. 

“Stiles,” the voice comes louder now and breaks through the walls that have been closing in around him. “Stiles,” Derek says. “I’m here. Stay with me, okay?”

Stiles nods and wipes at his face, hands still trembling. “He’s dead. And I feel so guilty because I couldn’t get to him in time. I  _ saw  _ him. He was right there and I couldn’tー”

“Look at me,” Derek lifts Stiles’ chin with two fingers and hold him there. 

“I feel so guilty, Derek. I know it wasn’t my fault, butー”

“You loved him. It’s okay to feel guilty, Stiles. You have to forgive yourself, though. What would he want you to do?” Derek very carefully stays away from saying Scott’s name. He doesn’t feel like he has the right to quite yet.

“He’d want me to live my life for him. Make every second count and find a way to be happy again.”

The silence that follows isn’t exactly comfortable, but it holds the promise of peace. Stiles shifts on the lounge chair to lay next to Derek. It’s a tight fit, but the feeling of being squeezed provides a sense of relief for him. Thankfully, Derek doesn’t seem to mind it. Instead, he just wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pulls him in closer.

***

“Hey,” Derek says when Stiles stumbles out of the spare bedroom the next morning.

“Hey,” Stiles says with a surprised lilt to his voice. Somehow, he’s gotten up before Stiles this time and stands in front of the coffee maker, already filling it. “What’s got you up so early?”

“Oh, you know. The hope of a new beginning,” he says nonchalantly. “Yada yada, same old same old.”

Stiles lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if a new beginning could be considered ‘same old same old’, Derek.”

Derek hangs his head forward with a sigh. “I wanted to make you breakfast, okay?”

Stiles’ eyes widen comically and he bites down on the absolutely shit-eating grin he feels coming on. “Why, Derek, I do believe I am being courted.”

Derek closes his eyes and tilts his head away with an embarrassed smile. Clearing his throat, he says, “Uh, yeah, actually.”

“What?” All joking leaves Stiles, just one word holding so much vulnerability and hope. 

“I wanted to…” Derek shakes his hand around ambiguously. “You know, make you feel better or whatever,” he mumbles. He takes a breath and starts again, “I want to make you happy.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it? Stiles I’m telling you that I like you. Like, I want to start a relationship with you. As in, you knowー”

Stiles has absolutely no clue what Derek is about to say because in one fell swoop, he encases Derek’s face with both hands and pulls him into a kiss. It’s a relatively light kiss, just their lips pressing softly together and staying interlocked for a moment too fleeting, but it feels like a promise. When he pulls back, Stiles gently sweeps his thumb across Derek’s cheek, slowly opening his eyes.

“Oh,” says Derek.

Stiles just grins and dives in again, coffee momentarily forgotten.

***

It’s not until they’re sat on the couch with their coffee mugs warming their hands and two plates of waffles in front of them, that they start to let their professional guards down. Well, whatever professional guards they had, at least.

“Can I ask you a question?” Derek asks around a big bite of bananas and nutella. Stiles thinks he can make out a small piece of waffle in there but he can’t be sure. 

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you agree to be my bodyguard? You’ve never been one before. There doesn’t seem to be much reason for you to want to,” says Derek. It’s a question that’s been plaguing him since he first met Stiles. 

Stiles leans back against the couch and blows out a stream of air. “I thought it was time for me to try to take control of my fears,” Stiles says. “My best friend died in front of me. I don’t know how long I’ll carry that guilt with me. Lydia says that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, and I guess she’s right. When she was pushing me to do this, I think a part of me knew that I should. That it would help, somehow. I still don’t think I was  _ completely  _ ready, but maybe ready enough. If that makes sense.”

It’s starting to make more and more sense to Derek as the days go by. There’s never a right time to do anything, maybe it’s his responsibility to create that moment.

“You thought it was time?” Derek asks. 

“My gut was telling me that it was time,” says Stiles, nodding.

“And how do you feel about it now? Any second thoughts?” Though Stiles can tell where this is heading ー into some very flirtatious banter that he is  _ so _ on board with ー Stiles knows that Derek is genuinely asking how he feels.

“Nah,” Stiles grins at him fondly. “I think I made the right choice. I met you, after all.” Stiles swallows, “I’m really glad I met you, Derek Hale.”

“Do you mean Derek Hale the MLB starting pitcher, or Derek Hale, lover of  _ Annie _ and cookie dough and dogs too big for his bed?”

“I mean all of it. All of you,” says Stiles.

This time, Derek makes the first move and ducks down to press their lips firmly together. His hands move to rest in the groove of Stiles’ back, making the fabric of his T-shirt bunch in his hands. Stiles yanks Derek closer by his tank top, reveling in the tight fit of their chests against each other. The two layers of fabric separating them seem so paper thin that Stiles can feel every curve of Derek's body, the dip in his muscles. “Every piece of you,” Stiles murmurs against his lips.

“Stiles,” breathes Derek.

“I’m right here,” Stiles’ hot breath tickles the skin of Derek's neck where he's begun to suck and lick in the space below his ear. 

“We should be there," says Derek, tilting his head towards his bedroom. Stiles just nods vigorously and drags Derek by his tank top into the bedroom, closing the door on Sandy’s excited barks.

***

Hours later, they lie together in bed, the sheets rumpled and twisted around them. Derek’s only focus at the moment seems to be the dusting of hair on Stiles’ chest. He brushes and twists his fingers through it before nestling his face against Stiles’ chest. 

Stiles snorts and digs his fingers into Derek’s hair, pulling gently. “You’re so weird.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” smirks Derek.

Stiles grins smugly, “Not a bit.”

They settle into a comfortable silence together until their breaths match.

“Do you think it’s time for me to ‘take control of my fear’?” Derek asks quietly.

“Well, that depends. What’s your fear?”

Derek sighs and his breath rustles the hair on Stiles’ chest enough to tickle him. “The questions, mostly. My uncle Peter was the first person I came out to and he was the best. He supported me and helped me learn and understand as much as I wanted. He even went to Pridefest with me that year. But I think in some ways, that was kind of detrimental for me?”

“How so?”

“Well, when I came out to him, I didn’t know what I was. I just knew that, of the labels I found, none of them seemed to fit me. I was afraid that there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t normal. Of course, he was the one to help be past that.” Derek takes Stiles’ hand and twines their fingers together. “But because he was so supportive and helpful, I kind of expected for other family and friends to be the same.”

“They weren’t?” Stiles asks softly.

“No, a lot of them were,” Derek says quickly. “There were just a few here and there that I really had troubles getting past. They would ask so many questions, and personal ones, too. It was invasive and made me feel dirty. It was like I was a science experiment for them to poke and prod at because they just  _ had _ to understand what I was in order to get on with their lives. It might not have been their intention, but every time I come out to someone who doesn’t know what pansexual means, it’s like it’s impossible for them to understand that they don’t need to know everything about it for us to coexist. If they want to know so bad, why can’t they just wait to google it themselves?”

“It’s probably not the same,” Stiles says carefully. “But I’ve had similar situations with me being bi. It’s more well known, at least, but that doesn’t mean the intrusive questions stop.”

“Great, I have loads to look forward to, then,” mutters Derek.

Stiles sits up to look Derek in the eyes. “You do, though. There is so much out there for you, Derek. Who cares what people say? If they don’t get it, that’s their problem. It took me three years of being in the military before I came out to my squad. Our commanding officer was bi, too, but she was open about it. She would talk about her ex-girlfriend and about the boyfriend she had back home. Just normal stuff we would all share, but things I held myself back from joining in. I’m not sure if I would have ever come out to them without her just  _ being  _ there. I was able to accept myself and let my guard down around the people who were there to literally take a bullet for me, because of her. It seems like there aren’t that many role models out there that represent that part of ourselves. It can be really isolating if you don’t have one.”

“Trust me, Stiles, I know,” Derek grumbles.

“If you do the interview, you could be that person for so many other people,” says Stiles.

Derek turns away from him and takes a heavy breath. “Why is that pressure on me, though? Why is it  _ my _ responsibility?”

Stiles reaches for Derek’s hands again and squeezes them tight. “It’s your responsibility because no one else is going to have this opportunity that you do. No on else is already a role model for thousands of fans. If not you, then who? If not now, when?”

“Ugh, I hate it when you get all wise and right.” Even though Derek scrunches up his face in distaste, he still shuffles forward to straddle Stiles’ lap and push him onto his back. 

“Really?” Stiles says with a smirk. “I love it.”

***

Stiles and Laura wait outside the building for Derek. The weather is beautiful today with almost no clouds in the sky and a warm breeze on the wind. They’ve already eaten the lunch they brought with them and have moved onto making up stories about the strangers they see going about their days around them. 

“Oh!” Laura points to a woman walking her dog. “She’s on her way to the pond over on Franklin street to adopt a duck. Her dog, Mushu, gets lonely during the day when she has to leave to run her poker ring, and only likes birds.”

“Why not just get a parrot?” Stiles asks.

“Mushu doesn’t like it when he’s copied,” Laura says sagely.

“Ahh,” Stiles makes a noise of assent. “What are they going to name the duck?”

“Dragon,” says Laura.

Just then, Derek walks out of the building behind them with a swagger to his steps. 

“You look hot,” Stiles lets his eyes roam salaciously over his boyfriend before giving him an exaggerated wink.

“I always do,” Derek says with a smirk. He pulls Stiles in for a kiss and keeps his arm around his waist when they part.

“How was the interview?” Laura asks.

“It went well,” Derek smiles. “The interviewer they decided to go with was a civil rights journalist in the 80’s that fought for queer rights. She told me how she wished she had someone like me to look up to when was she was growing up.”

“See?” Stiles laces their fingers together. “You do make a difference.”

“You do, too,” Derek says to him. “I wouldn’t have taken the interview without you.”

“Nah,” Stiles grins. “Allison would have gotten you to do it eventually.”

“That’s true,” Derek rest his forehead against Stiles’ and fingers the collar of Stiles’ shirt, teasing his neck. “Thank you for pushing me to do this. I haven’t felt this liberated in years.”

“Ugh, you’re cuteness is giving me cavities.” Laura ruffles Derek’s hair and gives him a bear hug from the side. “For real, though. I’m proud of you, little bro. I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Derek feels his mega-watt smile coming out in full force. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to make this focus more on the contract negotiation but I guess I needed to work through my own troubles with coming out to others. Ethan was paid by the paparazzi to get a good picture for them, but I felt like that part of the plot derailed the story too much. Peter was going to be the one who found out (probably through some seedy means idk) about Ethan and tell Derek. In my mind, I don’t think Derek would care much for finding closure with Ethan. I think Derek’s less concerned about him and more concerned with finding a way to fully accept himself and all that that entails.
> 
> I was originally going to have Stiles and Lydia meet in group therapy but honestly I love them being childhood friends and going to war together so. much. more. Oh! Lydia works at Glow, and since she’s Allison’s girlfriend (and has met Derek a few times) she tried her best to stop the story and when that didn’t work, she warned Allison as soon as she could. They’re happily together and their one year anniversary party is among their top memories.


End file.
